The Aggressor Gene

By Carl Pfeiffer

Dr. Susan Miller is a brilliant, young, attractive marine biologist on a fast track career pathway at Memorial University of Newfoundland, doing behavioral studies on squid and octopuses, molluscan species noted for their high intelligence. Her studies are interrupted when the director of NOAAs Office of Research and Ocean Exploration requests her help aboard the oceanic research vessel, Okeanos Explorer, in the western Pacific Ocean to investigate the disappearance of some marine research divers from the ship. She is accompanied by her molecular biology post-doctoral trainee, Dr. Masami Matsumoto from Japan. It is suspected that one or more giant squid, usually a quiet, clandestine species, are responsible for these and other deaths in the region.

Scientists aboard the research vessel are also investigating the increased submarine seismic activity occurring in the western Pacific. These dilemmas require the two young marine biologists to travel around the globe, and to examine the molecular genetics to solve this problem and to discover its amazing causation.

The Aggressor Gene is a marine biology science-oriented thriller melding the areas of psychology, molecular biology and physical oceanography with marine biology in an exciting page turner.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 22, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496937148

Carl Pfeiffer

The author, Dr. Carl Pfeiffer, has been a professor of biomedical sciences in both medical and veterinary faculties, and as well has worked extensively in marine biology, particularly in marine mammal research. He has published numerous papers and written or edited many books, including recently, Molecular and Cell Biology of Marine Mammals. He has worked and lived with his family in several of the countries described in this book. He was also early employed as a scientist at NASA’s Ames Research Center and more recently was an investigator associated with an amphibian experiment onboard the International Space Shuttle, STS 65. He has degrees from Duke University, Southern Illinois University and Harvard University. He lives in Virginia with his wife, dogs, cats and horses. This is his first novel.

Book preview

THE

AGGRESSOR

GENE

CARL PFEIFFER

40813.png

AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

©

2014, 2015 Carl Pfeiffer. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/21/2015

ISBN: 978-1-4969-3716-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-3715-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-3714-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014915509

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Dedication

Prologue March 14 Sasebo, Southwest Japanese Coast

March 18 Vladivostok, Russia

March 20 St. John’s, Newfoundland, Canada

March 20 Newfoundland

March 21 Nagasaki, Japan

March 21 Northwestern Pacific Ocean

March 23 Noaa Headquarters, Silver Spring, Md Noaa Ship Okeanos Explorer, Nw Pacific Ocean

March 27 Honolulu

April 1 Memorial University Of Newfoundland, Canada

April 8 St. John’s, Newfoundland

April 9 Se Asian Geophysical Center, Bandung, Java, Indonesia

April 10 Western Pacific Ocean

April 12 St. John’s, Newfoundland

April 14 Bremerhaven, Germany

April 19 St. John’s, Newfoundland

April 21 Sabah, Malaysia

April 25 On Board The Okeanos Explorer

April 26 On Board The Okeanos Explorer

May 1 Supermax Prison, Shirley, Massachusetts

May 1 St. John’s, Newfoundland

May 5 Boston, Massachusetts

May 10 Onboard Okeanos Explorer

May 16 St. John’s, Newfoundland

May 13 St. John’s, Newfoundland

May 24 St. John’s And Osaka

May 30 St. John’s, Newfoundland

June 5 St. John’s, Newfoundland

June 11 St. John’s, Newfoundland

June 15 Kings College, Cambridge University, England

June 30 Newfoundland And Virginia

June 30 St. John’s, Newfoundland

July 3 St. John’s, Newfoundland

July 5 St. John’s, Newfoundland

July 12 San Francisco

July 16 Western Pacific Ocean

July 22 St. John’s, Newfoundland

July 23 St. John’s, Newfoundland

August 15 St. John’s, Newfoundland

August 16 St. John’s, Newfoundland

August 18 St. John’s, Newfoundland

August 21 St. John’s, Newfoundland

August 25 St. John’s, Newfoundland

August 29 St. Johns, Newfoundland

September 5 St. John’s, Newfoundland

September 7 St. John’s, Newfoundland

September 8 Western Pacific Ocean, Underwater

September 23 Western Pacific Ocean

October 23 Southeast U.s. Coast

October 29 Western Atlantic Ocean Coast

October 31 St. John’s, Newfoundland

October 31 Western Pacific Ocean

Epilogue

SELECTED OTHER BOOKS BY PFEIFFER

Images, Short Japanese Poems

(Nominated for National Book Award)

Western Medicine in the Early 19th Century

Molecular and Cell Biology of Marine Mammals (Editor)

Gastrointestinal Ultrastructure

Gastric Cancer (Editor)

Esophageal Cancer (Editor)

Peptic Ulcer (Editor)

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to the late Professor Frederick Aldrich, friend and fellow colleague of the author at Memorial University of Newfoundland in St. John’s. Dr. Aldrich was in the Faculty of Science and Dr. Pfeiffer was in the Faculty of Medicine. Aldrich was developer of the Cold Water Marine Biological Laboratory and Dean of the Graduate School. His was a lifelong enthusiastic search for, and investigation of the giant squid, Architeuthis dux, a number of which have washed up upon Newfoundland shores.

Birth is always followed by death, on land and in the ocean deep. That is the natural way of things. A thousand eggs may be shed, and carried by currents around the world. Most progeny will die, but a few will grow to gigantic size. That is the natural way of things.

PROLOGUE

MARCH 14

SASEBO, SOUTHWEST JAPANESE COAST

It was hot, but still too early in the morning to be stifling as the old fisherman in his dory leaned back and stretched in the morning sun. He was puzzled at the happenings at sea this morning, but at 62 years, with over 45 of them as a dedicated and experienced fisherman, and with his well-earned reputation and respect in the village as the most wise and senior fisherman, his natural patience did not allow puzzlement to turn to alarm. There was very little he did not know about the sea. Particularly in this southern area near the Sea of Japan, where he had fished since his first marriage over four decades ago. Takeo Okada would sit back in his small boat and reflect upon the peculiar damage to his deep fishing net. He knew that all wisdom and all decisions must come from careful contemplation.

The old fisherman began by reviewing how this early summer day had begun in an irregular fashion. Ordinarily on this day he would not be at this most distant point from his village, Sasebo, checking his deepest and largest net. His regular schedule was to inspect this net every third day, hauling in any fish caught during that interval, and Takeo would more frequently check his group of shallow nets strung along the coastline just near the reef only a few miles from Sasebo. The old man had found, however, during the past three weeks that his deep net not only contained more fish than usual, but that a couple species were caught that generally were only found in the colder waters of Hokkaido. Although he did not know the explanation for this, and was not scientifically trained in the matters of marine biology, he knew that there must be a logical and reasonable cause for this change in fish behavior. In any case, he had decided the night before to come out to the deep net one day early this time, feeling a premonition that the catch would be good this day. The old man considered that perhaps the recent series of earthquakes, registering up to five on the Japanese scale of seven and occurring with increasing frequency during the past four months, might have altered the pattern of offshore currents, which in turn would change the usual migratory patterns of fish in this sea. Indeed, one such quake, transpiring only a few weeks ago, had its epicenter in the sea, and the ensuing tidal wave had caused severe damage to the neighboring village of Hirado on Hirado Island. Two fishermen had been killed, and many boats and shoreline wood houses had been demolished by that destructive wave and the following flood. Fortunately for Takeo Okada and his family and other inhabitants of their village, Sasebo was located on a body of land which afforded them protection from the sea’s fury directed from the north.

The old man continued to ponder the events of that morning. As usual he had carefully looked at the sea, cloud patterns and wind direction and intensity before pushing his small dory off the beach. His uncanny skill at weather prediction remained a legend at Sasebo, and whenever decisions were difficult to make about the pending weather, or whether or not to check the nets, younger fishermen always waited to see if Takeo Okada decided to push to sea, and would follow his example. As usual, the old man had said goodbye to his wife who each morning packed his lunch of rice, fish, and pickles or nori, carefully in a waterproof container.

Usually, as happened this day, by the time his small boat was in the water he would look back toward his house and observe his wife facing the village shrine on the hillside near his house, praying to Watatsumi-no-Mikoto, God of the Sea, for a safe return and successful catch. His wife, Keiko San, was as proud of being the wife of Sasebo’s most senior fisherman, as Takeo Okada was of being an excellent fisherman, and inspiring example for the younger men of the village. Keiko San had only one regret in her otherwise simple but contented life – that she had borne her husband only one child. Although that child was a fine and beautiful girl, named Hisako after Takeo’s mother, Keiko San had hoped to have one or more boys, young men who would become fisherman like their father. The old man’s first wife and young son had been killed in a fire many years ago when he was still a young fisherman. On this morning Keiko San was surprised that her husband had changed his regular habit and decided to inspect his deep net, as he had told her his plan. However, she had great faith in his expertise and knowledge of the sea.

The old man’s thoughts now turned to his damaged net. When he had attempted to pull up the net, which served as a fish trap because of its geometric design, it offered very little resistance instead of the weight he anticipated with the fish he expected. By the time he had pulled the deep net up from eighty fathoms, and a portion of it lay dripping across the gunwales of his small boat, he could ascertain that it had a huge rip running almost twenty yards in length, and most of the netting near the tear was frayed. The old man was concerned not only about the loss of fish but especially about his expensive net, which seemed beyond repair. But perhaps what made him, unconsciously, most uncomfortable was the fact that his extensive experience had not yet taught him what could cause this type of damage. His small boat gently swayed in the swell which rhythmically traversed the sea this morning, and Takeo Okada sat with his back to the sun, determined to maintain a stoic patience, from which, he hoped, contemplation would bring wisdom. Occasionally, he thought, a giant tuna or shark in its frenzy to escape, might tear a few strands of his net in order to break free. Also, in the case of a shallow net, a passing ship might carelessly overlook his marker buoys and severely damage his net. Such an incident was impossible at the depth of this net, and furthermore not apt to occur in this vicinity of the Kujukushima Islands. He considered also the remote idea of a passing submarine ripping through his nets, but this idea too was abandoned because a submarine would likely carry away the net, which as not attached to the sea floor and whose linked marker buoys were stabilized only by 15 kilogram anchors.

The sun continued to beat down upon the leathery and darkened neck of the old man. As he turned to face the sun he noted a million prisms of silvery light reflecting upon the sea surface, all blending into a brilliant mirror-like surface at the horizon. He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and drew heavily on the smoke which seemed to provide some degree of reassurance. Weather conditions were perfect. The sea was becoming even more calm than when he had departed at sunrise, and he decided to remain out in his boat until he could imagine the most probable cause of his problem. Looking back again, away from the sun, he could see overhead a collection of seagulls circling in their characteristic fashion as when they find a school of fish near the surface or other food source. For some unknown reason, this also seemed strange to the old man this day. Perhaps it was because he had observed no other evidence of surface activity of flying fish, mackerel, or other schools of fish. Finishing his cigarette, the old man lowered the front brow of his hat, and closed his eyes to reflect upon his situation. His small white boat, its name, Buto-ka Maru, painted in faded blue on the prow and meaning dancer, rocked gently upon the morning sea.

At about 40 yards from the prow of Buto-ka Maru in the direction of the sun, the regular surface ripples on the sea became irregular in one zone due to a change in subsurface currents. This was shown on the surface only as a change in reflected light, and was not seen by the old man. During the next few seconds the zone of irregularity increased in size and intensity and approached to within 15 feet of the small boat, and subsided. All was still for a moment. Then the surface of the water was cut as a greyish cylindrical object appeared, pointing in the direction of the small dory. The shape, its shiny wet surface glistening in the sunlight, now had risen above the surface of the sea for a length of 30 feet, its length tapered in diameter. Its narrow pointed aspect was about 3 feet in diameter at the distal end, which now nearly touched the small boat as it floated on the surface. Almost clairvoyantly the old man opened his eyes, and at the same instant, in a powerful surge, the long grey arm erupted from its lazy position, lunged forward, cracking down across the portside of the boat. With a splintering sound coupled with the suction noise of its rapid descent, the small dory and its occupant were drawn beneath the surface of the sea. In the following instant the grey arm, now accompanied by another identical one, had completely encircled the boat and splintered it into debris at a depth of 30 feet. The old man, by reflex reaction holding his breath by now had bobbed up to the surface. His strong body displayed a combative, physical reflex charged by his circulating adrenalin. However, his mental constitution was characterized by a mysterious calm, a fatalistic acceptance of death at sea by a man of the sea. It was for Takeo Okada a final manifestation of his wisdom of the superiority of the sea. The huge grey body which was now suspended some thirty feet below the surface, focused a plate-like eye upon the small human form agitating the surface of the sea. Without moving its position underwater, it extended one tentacle to the surface and delicately plucked the body downward. In a moment Takeo Okada’s body was halved by a slow moving beak, which subsequently ingested both components.

As the wife of a fisherman, who is always subconsciously aware of the hazards which her husband confronts, Keiko Okada knew of her husband’s death by midnight that night, even though her friends and their fishermen husbands assured her of the strength, wisdom, and durability of the old man. It would be five days before the flotsam, establishing identity of the Buto-ka Maru, would begin to wash ashore.

MARCH 18

VLADIVOSTOK, RUSSIA

Morning is frequently a time of unnoticed aesthetic brilliance. On the sea it is heralded by the pre-dawn meandering flight of the gull. Just before the first crest of the sun is visible on the horizon where water fuses with sky, the surface of the sea quietly captures the horizontal splinters of red from the sky. Rapidly, there ensues an almost explosive and glittering elucidation of both sea and sky in a panorama of gold and white silver. This metamorphosis of the twilight zone, which seems momentary, is ignored by the fisherman, but sets into motion a thousand chain reactions in sea life beneath the surface.

Captain Demetri Komarov, with his usual stern expression, a facial characteristic which belied his good sense of humor, puffed on his pipe and filled the cabin with